sir-fenris

[sir-fenris]

Complex 27 Master list

World building:

The facility - overview

Welcome to complex 27

The liberation front (and overview of the main living weapon producers and organisations)

Characters:

Strained Bonds - Character Profiles

Concept art for "strained bonds" characters

Concept art for "On The Run" characters

Redesign of Ash and Charlie before the escape.

Art of Alex and Sam before the escape.

Master lists:

On The Run - Sam, Alex, Charlie and Ash escape from complex 27.

Event fic lists:

AiLessWhumptober List

Whumptober List

Angstober

Comfy-vember

Character tags and masterlists:

Asset 43 - Jane

Asset 44

Asset 47 - Paul master list

Asset 48 - Ben

Asset 71 - Matt

Asset 77 - Ash masterlist

Asset 84 - Alex masterlist

Asset 83 - Sam masterlist

Asset 85 - Charlie master list

Asset 91 - Jess

If anyone wants to send a request or prompt for any character, or combination of characters, just shout.

[sir-fenris]

His Hands

Professional//Victim Masterlist

With his hands incapacitated, Tommy has to rely entirely on Caius to get through his bedtime routine.

A flashback to a pivotal moment in Tommy's decline.

CW: Noncon touching and intimacy, humiliation, spanking, drowning, self hatred, food denial, and uhhh. Abusive teachers?

~

Tommy sobbed, clutching his hands to his chest. 

“No more, no more,” he begged, but the client - Miss Mietta- waved off his pleas with a stern look. 

“What did I tell you about moving your hands back? Good boys keep them on the desk, Tommy, don’t you want to be a good boy?”

Tommy sniffled miserably and nodded, but when she reached for his wrist again, he shrank away. 

“It hurts too much, I can’t hold it! I think my fingers are broken,” he bleated desperately. In spite of her icy demeanor, he could feel warmth radiating off of her in waves. He knew she didn’t want a good boy.

Lucky me, I don’t want to cooperate, either. 

“Hands flat on the table,” she commanded. Tommy struggled to straighten his fingers out, the digits swollen and curled from abuse. Laying them out on the desk was torture enough.

“That’s five more lashes, boy. Then we’ll see how many lines you can write on the board, and I don’t ever want to catch you without a hall pass again.”

You’re a sick fucking bitch, and I hope they rate you as shit on rate-my-professor-dot-com, Tommy thought to himself, as she raised her cane. 

“Yes miss,” He croaked, and she brought it down across his knuckles again. 

—---------------------------------------------------

Tommy was exhausted by the time Sam finished setting his hands. They were swollen mitts of finger splints and sports wrap, and he could feel his heartbeat in every joint as they throbbed. 

Caius cuffed his wrist to the door handle inside of the car, and Tommy spent the drive home struggling to keep from knocking against the side. 

More than anything, he wanted to sleep - but as Caius marched him down the stairs, it started to dawn on him just how helpless he would be until his hands could heal. 

He shuffled into his room, holding his useless hands limp in front of his chest. 

“You need to take a shower before bed. Do you need help undressing?” Caius asked, his voice mild. 

Tommy stared at his feet. He was struggling to think through how many steps it would take just to get undressed, much less shower and redress.

“No, I can do it, thank you.”

He tried not to look his handler in the face, but he still saw when Caius’s eyes narrowed. Wrong answer, then. 

“Okay, go ahead.”

Caius took a seat in the corner chair and sat, folding one leg over the other and sinking back against the back of the chair. Tommy realized too late that Caius had set him up to either ask for help up front, or beg for it soon after, and he had unwittingly picked the latter. 

After struggling to remove his hoodie for an embarrassing amount of time, he relinquished his last ounce of pride as his exhaustion won out. A familiar anger rose like acid in the back of his throat, and he swallowed it as usual. The bitter taste still lingered. He took the last few heart-pounding steps over to Caius and sank to his knees, bowing his head. 

“I’m sorry Caius, please help me,” he pleaded in a small voice. He glanced up from Caius’s reaction and saw him roll his eyes.

“Did you figure out you need your hands yet, dummy?” 

Tommy didn’t reply, just sank a little deeper into his puddle on the floor. 

Caius sighed. “Hands up.”

He obeyed, and Caius pulled his shirt and hoodie up over his head in one movement, standing up over Tommy to pull the sleeves up and free him. When the fabric bunched around the bindings on Tommy’s hands his breath caught in his throat, but at least he pulled it off quickly. 

“Bathroom,” Caius told him, snapping his fingers towards the door. He followed Tommy in, a possessive hand on the nape of his neck guiding him to stand in front of the mirror. 

He wanted space. He wanted to rest. His hands hurt. Instead he had to wait patiently while Caius played with his hair, inspecting him. 

“Your hair is getting long.” Tommy grimaced. Please, not tonight. 

“Let me cut it before your shower.”

Let me. As if he had a choice. That anger welled up inside of him again, the unending frustration of being denied autonomy. But then again, he would be angry and frustrated by anything Caius said. 

“I’m - I’m not feeling so good, let’s just wait until tomorrow. Please.” He struggled to keep his voice light, his teeth grit.

“Yeah? You don’t feel good, so you think we should wait until tomorrow?” Caius’s voice was light, but Tommy knew he was being mocked. A little voice in the back of his head urged him to say something, de-escalate, back down before this gets bad, but fuck, where was the energy for it? He was dead on his feet, everything hurt, he just wanted to drown his sorrows in pain pills and sleep. Figure out how to wipe his ass tomorrow. 

Caius started running a bath. The tension in that tiny bathroom was thick enough to cut with a knife. Tommy wanted to stand strong, but he was starting to squirm under the pressure. Fuck this, fuck everything. But as pissed as he was, his face felt hot, and the hair on the back of his neck prickled. 

He was going to do something stupid. 

“Caius…I’m not trying to be difficult. I really am just tired. It’s been a long day for both of us.”

Caius did not reply, leaning over to test the water temperature.

“Could we just - could this just be a request? A conversation? Not… not me telling you what to do, not an act of defiance, just - just hoping to work with you a little, is all. Please don’t be angry with me. Please?”

Where does bargaining fall on the five stages of grief again?

Caius heaved another sigh and turned to face him. Tommy shrunk back, ducking his head. It felt like his shoulders stayed higher than his head at this point, with the amount of time he spent trying to curl in on himself. 

Caius was already tall, but Tommy felt miniscule beside his intimidating presence. He felt about an inch tall, just trying to avoid being caught underneath Caius’s shoes. 

“Please, Caius, please take care of me,” he bleated desperately, his voice hoarse.

What the fuck am I saying? I’m just going to piss him off more! Fuck, fuck, and other such fuckings, hell shit damn-

Caius stepped right up against him and Tommy braced himself, a terrified whimper escaping his throat. But when Caius reached out, his arms encircled him, and Tommy’s face was pressed into his chest as he hugged him.

Tommy froze, unsure of how to react. But when no pain came, and the fear had trampled his anger, he felt - strange, what…?

Caius’s hand stroked his hair, nestling him closer to his bosom. He felt incredibly warm, radiating heat while Tommy was cold without a shirt. It felt - it felt nice. Actually, he couldn’t remember the last time someone held him. 

Tears were running down his cheeks before he even noticed them welling in his eyes. He felt like crying most of the time nowadays, but this felt different. All the fear and pain and frustration, all of his misery breaking him into sobs at this one gentle gesture. For the first time, it didn’t feel like an escalation of his feelings, but a relief. 

He clutched Caius closer as best he could without his hands. Caius helped, holding him tighter so their bodies were pressed together tightly. Tommy cried into his chest, nuzzling into him, desperate for touch. It felt so strange to seek comfort from his tormentor, but he was suddenly greedy for it - water after a lifetime in the desert.

“I will always take care of you,” Caius murmured into his hair. He rubbed gentling circles on Tommy’s back. Sobs wracked his slight frame, but Caius soothed him with a sudden tenderness. Tommy nodded, his nose buried in Caius’s chest. 

His sudden outburst quickly petered out and back into exhaustion, and he slumped against him. Caius pulled him back away from his chest enough to look at him. Tommy was a desperate mess, his eyes glazed and shining with tears, his nose pink as he sniffled.

“Taking care of you is my job. But I take care of you by giving what you need, and that isn’t going to be the same as what you want. That means teaching you, that means maintaining you, and it means punishing you to make you good again. Do you understand?”

“Yes, thank you Caius, thank you,” he cried, and he felt a flicker of genuine gratitude somewhere inside of himself. Somewhere that had just felt cold and hollow for a long time. 

You’re sick, you’re disgusting, a dwindling part of himself said, and Tommy believed it. 

Caius undressed him, giving him a fond pat on his ass when he shivered in the cool basement air. He needed help getting into the bathtub without falling or wetting his bandages. He trembled when Caius touched him, fondling his body possessively while he washed him. Tommy was helpless to stop it, his tired arms barely keeping his hands up and out of the water. Caius caressed him with such foreign fondness, and when Tommy pressed his thighs together to hide his body’s reaction, Caius tugged them back apart. He trailed his fingertips up the inside of his thigh, teasing him everywhere but where he needed him most. Tommy was humiliatingly hard, his face dark with shame. When Caius finally touched him, trailing fleeting fingers up and down his cock, he began to shiver from something else entirely.  Caius didn’t dwell too long, thankfully, but his touch left Tommy’s body buzzing with a confused desire. 

“Sit up baby, kneel.” 

Tommy struggled to pull himself up by his elbows, but Caius graciously helped him. He had him face the back of the tub on his knees, and a hand returned to his wet hair. 

“I won’t cut your hair tonight, because I don’t want to do it when I am angry.” Caius’s voice was still soothing, soft, but there was an anxiety rising in Tommy again. 

“When I tell you to do something, or when I want to do something to you, you will not talk back. Do you understand?”

“Yes Caius,” Tommy croaked, his voice weak.

“I am bathing you because you need to be taken care of. But you need discipline. I appreciate that you asked, but I have to do what’s best for you.” Tommy nodded, his throat too thick to reply. 

“I’ll give you a little reminder, and then I can forgive you and we can move on. Put your hands behind your back.”

Tommy gulped. Caius’s gentle demeanor did help keep him calm, but he had hoped Caius would let it go, just this once. Fuck, what had he even said? Politely asked to do it tomorrow?

He put his hands behind his back, his arms weakly straining to keep them there. The hand in his hair guided him down, folding him over and forcing his rump up as the tip of his nose touched the water’s surface.

“Deep breath, baby.”

He obeyed, and his head was plunged under the water, forcing his forehead against the bottom of the bathtub. The warm water that had felt relaxing now felt uncomfortable on his face, and his breath leaked out of his nose in little bubbles as water poured into his sinuses. It burned as it burrowed its way into his head. 

A sharp slap to the ass knocked the air out of him in surprise, no warning given before the hits began. His lungs burned wretchedly at the escape of his last breath.

He was dragged back up by his hair, holding his head down just above the water as he spluttered. Water drained from his nose, easing some of the tension in his head, but leaving a nasty burn in its wake. 

“Breathe.”

He sucked in another breath and his head was forced down again, mashing his face into the ceramic bottom. The slaps stung more than he expected, his impact on his wet skin more venomous. His chest ached violently with every hit as he struggled to hold back his cries. It was humiliating enough on its own, but the pain debased him further. He was a disobedient schoolboy getting his ass tanned for bad behavior, a lifetime away from the independent man he was out in the world. Caius was so damn good at breaking him down like that. 

His head pounded, his chest ached, and the blistering he was receiving on his ass was quickly becoming unbearable. He squirmed in pain and discomfort, frantic for respite. Caius let him struggle a little longer before dragging him back up again, letting him choke in a few breaths. His head was pounding, his ass was burning, and he panted like a dog to try to catch his breath. Down again, his face ground into the tub floor. Stupid mutt. Stupid, stupid mutt. 

It was hard to keep his arms up. He struggled with the temptation to try to shield himself from Caius’s wicked hand but he would only injure himself further. His hands couldn’t take another bashing. Caius was thorough as always, working the swell of his ass and down his thighs into a glowing heat. He could hear the sound of each impact faintly underwater, but it was drowned out when he screamed out his last breaths. He writhed, frenzied by the pain and the need for air, but he was useless to save himself from Caius’s firm hold.

Back up once more, and he gagged on water, spitting and groaning as he fought for strangled gasps. He went limp under Caius’s hands, his head only held up by the fist in his hair. 

“There we go. Don’t you feel better now?”

Tommy felt markedly worse. 

“Yes, thank you, thank you,” he managed in between gasps, before a coughing fit violently took him. 

Caius gave him an affectionate pat on the back, and finally pulled the drain. 

Tommy was toweled off thoroughly and dressed in fresh boxers and pajamas. At home, he slept in his boxers and maybe a tee, but here Caius had distinct pajamas he was expected to wear. It wasn’t worth arguing about. 

Caius settled him sitting up in bed before leaving with the lights still on, returning quickly with dinner and a handful of pills. He offered the pills in his palm, holding up a glass of water. Tommy opened his mouth, but Caius shook his head. 

“Lick.” He moved his offered hand closer for emphasis. 

Tommy looked up at him warily. 

You hate this, you hate this, what are you doing?!

He just wanted the pain to stop. 

He leaned forwards and licked the pills from his hand, meek and obedient. Caius watched him do it with hungry eyes. A couple of the pills were dry tablets, and Tommy made a face at the bitter taste. He opened again when Caius offered the water, and there was something agonizingly intimate about letting him pour it down his throat. He managed to swallow them all, but a dribble of water escaped his lips and dripped down his chin. It felt filthy, somehow. He felt filthy. 

Caius spoonfed him applesauce for dinner. It didn’t do much to soothe the knot of hunger in his stomach, but he was grateful and didn’t dare ask for more. Caius treated him to a toothbrush in bed, the thick blue paste already capping the bristles. 

“Open,” Caius coaxed, admonishing him with the click of his tongue until he had opened his mouth as wide as he could and bared his teeth. It felt strange to have someone else brush his teeth. Being helpless wasn’t just a state, it was a feeling, and it felt overwhelming to be taken care of this way. He was humbled as his mouth was scrubbed with fastidious care. Caius was taking care of him, but he felt unbearably vulnerable to him in his state. Without any other defense, a desire to please him rose in him instead. 

The last of his water was pressed to his lips. 

“Rinse your mouth, don’t swallow.” 

Tommy obeyed, rinsing as best he could with his mouthful. The glass was pressed to his lips again. 

“Spit.”

He spit the now cloudy water into the cup. His mouth still tasted like toothpaste, but it would do. 

“Thank you, Caius. For everything.” He batted his eyes, just twice, and looked up at Caius through his eyelashes. Caius still wore a look of austerity, but Tommy could tell that he was pleased, somehow. 

The drugs were starting to kick in, and his exhaustion became inescapable. He sank back into the pillows, drowsy. Caius surprised him when he leaned in and kissed his forehead, tucking him in. He hesitated by the door, his hand on the light. 

“Goodnight, Tommy.”

“Goodnight,” Tommy murmured, but he was shutting down fast. Caius flicked off the lights and closed the door behind him. Tommy dropped into unconsciousness to the sound of the lock clicking firmly into place. 

~

Taglist: @suspicious-whumping-egg  @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday @defire @jumpywhumpywriter

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @knivestothroats @paperprinxe

Thank you all so much for reading!

[sir-fenris]

The Whumpee’s whole body jerks as the sudden noise of their cell door opening stirs them awake. Early morning light glows dimly in the hallway inviting them off of their cot, and they hear the diminishing sound of fast footsteps from whoever opened the door. The Whumpee doesn’t wait long before getting up and standing at the threshold of the open door, listening for the sounds of anyone returning. They walk slowly down the hallway until they reach a door leading outside. The Whumper is out there looking frantic, a cigarette hanging so loosely from their mouth that it tumbles out. They quickly load some things into a car. They see but don’t acknowledge the Whumpee at first, but after letting out a frustrated slam of their car door, their conscience compels them to walk over. The Whumpee instinctively steps back and grabs the doorframe as they approach, but the Whumper doesn’t strike them. They don’t insult them. They don’t terrorize them. They simply point in a direction away from the building, saying “That way. Five miles, tops. Follow that road.” The Whumpee looks where the Whumper points, confused. The Whumper goes to take a drag of a cigarette that’s not there, and with shaking hands they go to light another. It’s here that the Whumpee reaches out and grabs the Whumper’s wrist, holding it still before their match can strike the box. The reversal of power makes them both feel unnerved, and the Whumpee feels real terror set in when they realize the Whumper’s hand is quivering in theor grip. The two dare to meet eyes on new terms. “What’s worse than in here?” the Whumpee asks. The Whumper pulls their hand back and finishes striking the match with a shaky breath. “Trust me. ‘In there’ is gonna be a framed photo on your fucken fridge if you don’t leave right now.”

[sir-fenris]

A Caretaker, but for Whumper.

Hurting Whumpee is a lot of work, and Whumpee is dangerous as well. So often Whumper comes back with injuries, and they're simply exhausted.

Maybe it's even a reluctant Whumper, or maybe Caretaker is simply okay with it all. But every time Whumper comes back, Caretaker is there to take care of them. Bandage their wounds, give them some food, and tell them they're doing good.

[sir-fenris]

A whumpee who was only captured because whumper thought they were pretty

Treating their captive like a dress up doll— dressing them up to compliment their outfit and wearing them on their arm like a pretty little accessory.

Whumper dragging them to fancy events with other whumpers and showing them off.

Whumpee is forced to wear a collar that shocks them every time they try to speak, so they’re a perfect little silent thing whenever whumper wants to show them off to their friends or take them to a party.

Maybe whumper let’s their friends fawn over their pet, and even touch the pretty thing’s face—

and whumpee has to stand still and strain to keep their expression pleasant and pliant while the strangers crowd around them, while fingers extend to grip their jaw and tilt their head this way and that, while too many unfamiliar hands run over their face and through their hair.

And the strangers compliment whumper about whumpee’s appearance— ‘how pretty those eyes are,’ and ‘how did they manage to find such a beautiful thing?’

And whumpee’s face is red with embarrassment—at being crowded and poked and prodded and talked about as if they’re not even there—at being treated like some kind of decoration. And whumper and their friends only laugh and coo over how cute they look when they’re blushing.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Whumper never hits their face, leaves scars or permanent damage—they want to keep them looking nice after all.

Electricity is their preferred weapon, and the shock collar works wonders for conditioning.

And after weeks and months of getting brutally shocked for every little misstep, every perceived ounce of resistance, for anything other than absolute perfect compliance—

Eventually, whumpee’s will crumbles completely—and they’re plaint, docile, and desperate to obey to avoid the agonizing pain that the voltage brings.

Completely mentally broken— a perfect little decoration.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Just dehumanize the hell out of a pretty boy and make him your accessory ✨

The thing that inspired this post

More prompts like this

General whump taglist:

@whumpshaped @whumpsday @emmettnet @a-whump-sideblog @whump-it-like-its-hot @wolfeyedwitch @whumper-soot @unorganisedalienrubbish @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @hidden-dreamland @whumpedydump

Just ask to be added or removed from the taglist <3

[sir-fenris]

Hero villain drabble

Suicidal hero my beloved <3

“This is the part where you beg,” Villain said with a wicked grin on their face.

Hero’s head fell forward, their eyes closed. “Just do it,” they whispered, tears streaming down their face. “Please. Please.”

Hero grabbed Villain’s wrist with the knife in it and brought it closer to their throat until it drew blood. “Please, please, please.”

Villain frowned, a million emotions passing across their stormy eyes. They wanted Hero to beg for their life. They didn’t expect the great Hero to beg for death. Villain pulled away. Without them supporting Hero’s weight, Hero slid down the brickwork, drawing their knees into their chest.

Villain pulled out their phone. “I’ll call an ambulance,” they muttered, but as soon as they said that wild, frightened eyes widened, grabbing their attention.

“No, please! Please. If you don’t kill me they will, please! Please!” Hero wailed, scrambling over and grabbing Villain’s leg, pulling at the fabric. “Please! You— you said if I begged, you would— you’d—���

Villain stared as their nemesis dissolved into sobs, unaware of how to comfort someone that was begging to be killed by your hand. In a split second, Villain made a snap decision, pocketing their phone.

They crouched and grabbed Hero by the hair, yanking them off of Villain. Hero hissed out in pain but didn’t fight. They didn’t struggle.

“I will kill you, Hero,” Villain said, and the relief that flooded Hero was disconcerting. “But not here. I want it to be public. Planned. I want to make sure everyone knows who destroyed the great Hero.”

Hero started trembling in Villain’s grasp. Good. It was working. Villain grabbed Hero’s chin and yanked them close. “So you’re coming with me.”

Hero’s wet eyes widened to the size of saucers as Villain scooped them up and carried them to Villain’s car. “Are you going to behave or do I need to throw you in the boot?”

Hero sniffed, snuggling into Villain’s chest. “I’ll be-behave.”

Villain put them in the backseat. Hero curled up into a ball, facing the fabric of the seat and even from the window Villain could see them sobbing again. They walked around to the boot and called Butler.

“Master Villain.”

“Hello, Butler. I need another room made up for tonight, we will be having a guest stay with us for a while.”

“Of course. How long?”

Villain looked back at the defeated Hero in their backseat. “Until they get back on their feet.”

“Unusually magnanimous of you, Master.”

“Yes,” Villain agreed, disconcerted. “It is.”

“I will have everything prepared before you arrive.”

“Thank you, Butler.”

Villain walked to the driver’s seat, their mind racing at a million miles an hour. They couldn’t kill Hero like this, it was pathetic. As if they just rescued a puppy to abuse it. No, Villain had a thing for strays, so when Hero was ready to tell Villain who abused them, well, they’d better prepare for a whole world of hurt.

[sir-fenris]

Caretaker sees Whumpee for the first time after their rescue. Whumpee is like a parent to Caretaker and to see Whumpee reduced to scarred flesh on a hospital bed breaks them.

Caretaker stays with Whumpee for days, barely getting any sleep. When Whumpee finally wakes up, they hold Caretaker close.

“Do you want to know what kept me alive?” Whumpee asks.

Caretaker, so overcome with a mix of terror and relief, can only nod.

Whumpee squeezes Caretaker’s hand. “You did, Caretaker. I lived so I could see your face again.”

[sir-fenris]

forever thinking about recapture

whumpee getting grabbed on their way home and dragged into a car thats hauntingly familiar

whumpee getting chloroformed again while a familiar voice is telling them to relax

or alternatively "did you really think i'd let you run?"

whumpee realising their home has been broken into and finding a threatening message somewhere. even just a found you scribbled on the wall

whumpee attacked while they're fumbling with the key to get inside, then promptly shoved inside the apartment and being tied up in their own bedroom

whumpee approached in a public setting, frozen in fear and unable to alert anyone because they know whumper has the ability to cause a bloodbath and they don't want to get innocent civilians involved

whumpee approached in a public setting and whumper showing them a photo of a tied up caretaker in a room that has served as whumpee's prison for months. "how about a trade?"

whumpee waking up in a familiar cell, having panic attack after panic attack, sobbing and screaming their throat raw because this can't be happening again

whumpee going docile and quiet as soon as they realise what's happening, their conditioning kicking in to protect them

"i'm so glad you still remember me"

"you haven't forgotten your manners, have you?"

"i heard you went to therapy, hm? i hope they haven't stuffed your head full of too many lies"

whumper bringing out their most common torture instrument. "for old times' sake"

caretaker realising that whumpee didn't send them their daily text, the one they agreed on specifically so they'd know whumpee was okay

whumpee not picking up the phone for the third time

whumper picking up whumpee's phone. "oh, thank goodness whumpee, i thought-" "i'm awfully sorry, they're a bit preoccupied at the moment." caretaker can hear whumpee's muffled cries and screams in the background

caretaker arriving home and finding the apartment ransacked and empty

caretaker finding a letter from whumper. "thanks for watching them while i was dealing with the police <3"

caretaker finding a stack of photos of whumpee being subdued in their own apartment

[sir-fenris]

purposefully using fragile or flimsy materials to bind whumpee because no, no of course you're allowed to struggle, pet. What I'm doing to you is painful, it's inhumane (like you). When you flinch and pull and struggle it just shows how healthy you are - it's reflexes, instincts. But you're better than that. You know that there are rules to follow, right, pet? You know you're not allowed to break my things. I'm just setting a limit - struggle as much a you want, flinch however much you need, but if that rope breaks or if that bolt gets loose - you know what'll happen, right?

[sir-fenris]

And we’re back! New piece for TJ and Danny’s series. It’s been a while, so for a refresher: Carrying on directly from previous piece here. Masterpost is here. The Pathverse is a creation of @wildfaewhump!

TJ jerked back, hands pressing themselves into his armpits, cringing. Voices hammered at his ears – at least two voices? Had somebody else approached, too?

The man was swearing, yelling – of course he was, it was bad and wrong for TJ to be here, he knew that, this person had every right to be upset. But TJ hadn’t gotten close, hadn’t looked at him, hadn’t – if only he would listen, but he wouldn’t. TJ wondered, panicked, if he ought to just sit down, fold his arms over his head, and wait for the Agency people.

The new person had a loud voice too, but not as angry – and also getting closer. Almost in his space – and then TJ stiffened, his mouth opening to cry a warning, because the new person had walked right up to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

No, you can’t touch me, he tried to say – but before he could get the words out, her bare fingers had found his and closed around them.

And then everything was fine! TJ hadn’t needed to worry about it at all. He closed his mouth, feeling a little silly he’d been so panicked. Relief washed over him like an ocean wave, inexorable, dizzying. The fingers squeezed his and he found himself grinning. Everything was going to be okay.

Continuar lendo

[sir-fenris]

Canon:

Introducing Fern

Fern learns a lesson with a handler

lllicit night readings with the trainees

Fern goes to the infirmary

Jeremiah kidnaps Fern

Fern in the trunk

Arrival at the warehouse

Reading for Jeremiah, I

Reading for Jeremiah, II

Introducing Ezra

Here’s how Ezra got nabbed by the agency

This is what Ezra remembers that makes him fucky in Introducing Ezra

Ezra, agency captivity: punishment for an escape attempt

Ezra plays laser tag

Ezra meets Fern

Fern, catatonic + rescue part I

Fern, rescue part II

Fern, rescue III

Fern, overstimulation and wet clothes

Fern stuck in a reading

Fern gets a sweater

Fern, stabbed

Fern, getting stitches

Ezra does grafitti

Ezra and the terrible horrible very bad no good day

Ezra & Axel Arrested

Fern, lost

Fern, lost continued

Fern, lost and found

Fern, at a new agency

Jeremiah’s return

Jeremiah’s revenge

Ezra, rescued

Fern, rescued I

Fern, rescued II

Fern wakes up

Fern, fevered

Fern & Siena, I

Fern & Siena, II

Fern & Siena, III

Fern & Siena, IV

Fern & Siena, V

Fern & Siena, VI

Elias

Introducing Elias

Elias, II

Elias takes on a new client

Ransom note

(Probably) not canon:

Bad Things Happen Bingo - cradling someone in their arms

I had a question about:

Comfort items for Paths

Fern & Ezra’s sexualities

Can I make Path verse ocs?

What are the different Path classes?

Wtf do you mean Paths aren’t considered human

What are Path childhoods like?

How tf do parents just let their kids get taken

Does Fern dream about reading things?

What’s with the gloves, does cloth block reading?

Wtf is a cubby

Does Fern prefer handmade objects or machine-made?

How do the gang eat oreos?

Did someone say Path verse memes?

Paths - gotta catch em all!

Somebody get the flex tape

Storm area 51 the bureau

Moodboards

Fern moodboard

Fern & Ezra friendship moodboard, by @iaminamoodymoodtoday

Fern moodboard II

Art!!

Fern in a flower crown, by @rhosavirgoart

Myrn gets stabby at Jeremiah, by @rhosavirgoart

Fern - commissioned from @artofhau

Ezra, by @tormentum-ab-intra

Ezra and Fern, commissioned from @cecilsstorycorner

Illustration of Ezra’s graffiti drabble - by me

While we’re on the topic of art, here are portraits of Fern, Ezra, and Jeremiah, all done by the incredible @rhosavirgoart !

[sir-fenris]

The limbo forces are still gracing me with the combo of random artistic impulses and a slight hyperfocus on @paingoes's story, Destroyer.

This time, Paris was chosen by the limbo forces.

Paris by himself at night.

Here's without the extra lightning.

And here is @paingoes 's drawing that I heavily inspired myself on to make my art (<3). The pose was challenging and intriguing, so I decided to attempt drawing it.

If I am fortunate enough to have this artistic impulse for a bit longer, I will try to do another art of Paris, but one that aligns more with my comfort zone, like Delta's art (face in front view).

[sir-fenris]

The limbo forces are still gracing me with the combo of random artistic impulses and a slight hyperfocus on @paingoes's story, Destroyer.

This time, Paris was chosen by the limbo forces.

Paris by himself at night.

Here's without the extra lightning.

And here is @paingoes 's drawing that I heavily inspired myself on to make my art (<3). The pose was challenging and intriguing, so I decided to attempt drawing it.

If I am fortunate enough to have this artistic impulse for a bit longer, I will try to do another art of Paris, but one that aligns more with my comfort zone, like Delta's art (face in front view).

[sir-fenris]

TJ and Danny masterpost

I’m thinking of getting back into writing some TJ and Danny stuff, and I realised I probably have enough pieces for a masterpost to be worth it, so I’m making this as a way of reminding myself what I have! 

The pathverse belongs to Wildfaewhump, and TJ and Danny are my OC pair, an oppressed Class E telepath and the Agency handler assigned to him. 

Original set: 

Part 1 - Introducing TJ, Danny and their work 

Part 2 - TJ is reluctant to do a reading

Part 3 - Lunch break

Part 4 - TJ overloaded by reading 

Other pieces: 

Noughts and crosses 

Danny sticks up for TJ

TJ gets the flu 

Accidental reading part 1 - restraint

Accidental reading part 2 - aftermath

New arc: 

TJ struggles with readings again 

Danny approaches a decision 

TJ and Danny leave the Agency part 1

TJ and Danny leave part 2

TJ alone

The service station 

Getaway

Other stuff: 

TJ and Danny moodboard

Commissioned art by Undertheburrow

Asks and other things: 1, 2 3, 

[sir-fenris]

And we’re back! New piece for TJ and Danny’s series. It’s been a while, so for a refresher: Carrying on directly from previous piece here. Masterpost is here. The Pathverse is a creation of @wildfaewhump!

TJ jerked back, hands pressing themselves into his armpits, cringing. Voices hammered at his ears – at least two voices? Had somebody else approached, too?

The man was swearing, yelling – of course he was, it was bad and wrong for TJ to be here, he knew that, this person had every right to be upset. But TJ hadn’t gotten close, hadn’t looked at him, hadn’t – if only he would listen, but he wouldn’t. TJ wondered, panicked, if he ought to just sit down, fold his arms over his head, and wait for the Agency people.

The new person had a loud voice too, but not as angry – and also getting closer. Almost in his space – and then TJ stiffened, his mouth opening to cry a warning, because the new person had walked right up to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

No, you can’t touch me, he tried to say – but before he could get the words out, her bare fingers had found his and closed around them.

And then everything was fine! TJ hadn’t needed to worry about it at all. He closed his mouth, feeling a little silly he’d been so panicked. Relief washed over him like an ocean wave, inexorable, dizzying. The fingers squeezed his and he found himself grinning. Everything was going to be okay.

Continuar lendo

[sir-fenris]

A general cane guide for writers and artists (from a cane user, writer, and artist!)

Disclaimer: Though I have been using a cane for 6 years, I am not a doctor, nor am I by any means an expert. This guide is true to my experience, but there are as many ways to use a cane as there are cane users!

This guide will not include: White canes for blindness, crutches, walkers, or wheelchairs as I have no personal experience with these.

This is meant to be a general guide to get you started and avoid some common mishaps/misconceptions, but you absolutely should continue to do your own research outside of this guide!

The biggest recurring problem I've seen is using the cane on the wrong side. The cane goes on the opposite side of the pain! If your character has even-sided pain or needs it for balance/weakness, then use the cane in the non-dominant hand to keep the dominant hand free. Some cane users also switch sides to give their arm a rest!

A cane takes about 20% of your weight off the opposite leg. It should fit within your natural gait and become something of an extension of your body. If you need more weight off than 20%, then crutches, a walker, or a wheelchair is needed.

Putting more pressure on the cane, using it on the wrong side, or having it at the wrong height will make it less effective, and can cause long term damage to your body from improper pressure and posture. (Hugh Laurie genuinely hurt his body from years of using a cane wrong on House!)

(an animated GIF of a cane matching the natural walking gait. It turns red when pressure is placed on it.)

When going up and down stairs, there is an ideal standard: You want to use the handrail and the cane at the same time, or prioritize the handrail if it's only on one side. When going up stairs you lead with your good leg and follow with the cane and hurt leg together. When going down stairs you lead with the cane, then the good leg, and THEN the leg that needs help.

Realistically though, many people don't move out of the way for cane users to access the railing, many stairs don't have railings, and many are wet, rusty, or generally not ideal to grip.

In these cases, if you have a friend nearby, holding on to them is a good idea. Or, take it one step at a time carefully if you're alone.

Now we come to a very common mistake I see... Using fashion canes for medical use!

(These are 4 broad shapes, but there is INCREDIBLE variation in cane handles. Research heavily what will be best for your character's specific needs!)

The handle is the contact point for all the weight you're putting on your cane, and that pressure is being put onto your hand, wrist, and shoulder. So the shape is very important for long term use!

Knob handles (and very decorative handles) are not used for medical use for this reason. It adds extra stress to the body and can damage your hand to put constant pressure onto these painful shapes.

The weight of a cane is also incredibly important, as a heavier cane will cause wear on your body much faster. When you're using it all day, it gets heavy fast! If your character struggles with weakness, then they won't want a heavy cane if they can help it!

This is also part of why sword canes aren't usually very viable for medical use (along with them usually being knob handles) is that swords are extra weight!

However, a small knife or perhaps a retractable blade hidden within the base might be viable even for weak characters.

Bases have a lot of variability as well, and the modern standard is generally adjustable bases. Adjustable canes are very handy if your character regularly changes shoe height, for instance (gotta keep the height at your hip!)

Canes help on most terrain with their standard base and structure. But for some terrain, you might want a different base, or to forego the cane entirely! This article covers it pretty well.

Many cane users decorate their canes! Stickers are incredibly common, and painting canes is relatively common as well! You'll also see people replacing the standard wrist strap with a personalized one, or even adding a small charm to the ring the strap connects to. (nothing too large, or it gets annoying as the cane is swinging around everywhere)

(my canes, for reference)

If your character uses a cane full time, then they might also have multiple canes that look different aesthetically to match their outfits!

When it comes to practical things outside of the cane, you reasonably only have one hand available while it's being used. Many people will hook their cane onto their arm or let it dangle on the strap (if they have one) while using their cane arm, but it's often significantly less convenient than 2 hands. But, if you need 2 hands, then it's either setting the cane down or letting it hang!

For this reason, optimizing one handed use is ideal! Keeping bags/items on the side of your free hand helps keep your items accessible.

When sitting, the cane either leans against a wall or table, goes under the chair, or hooks onto the back of the chair. (It often falls when hanging off of a chair, in my experience)

When getting up, the user will either use their cane to help them balance/support as they stand, or get up and then grab their cane. This depends on what it's being used for (balance vs pain when walking, for instance!)

That's everything I can think of for now. Thank you for reading my long-but-absolutely-not-comprehensive list of things to keep in mind when writing or drawing a cane user!

Happy disability pride month! Go forth and make more characters use canes!!!

[sir-fenris]

famous whumpee attempting to cover up for whumper (maybe a partner) because there have been allegations of abuse in their relationship? all eyes are on whumpee for explanation.

content: domestic whump, stockholm syndrome, known whumpee, past trauma, manipulation

"Hi, guys," Whumpee said, trying to keep up a cheery attitude for the camera. It didn't sound honest. They cleared their throat and tried again. "Hi, guys!" Still not very good.

Did they even need to sound cheery for a video like this? No, most people would be upset at accusations like that. Still, they needed to come across pleasant. Pleasant, but not particularly cheery. Concise. Holding back anger, maybe? They could act angry further along into the video.

They cleared their throat again.

"Hi, guys! Today's video is less..." Less what? "...happy, uh..." This was horrible. Start again. "Hi, guys! Today's video is a less happy one, as I'm sure you've guessed from the title. But it isn't less happy because it's some huge callout about my partner— It's less happy because the allegations that have been going around lately are... very heavy, and they're... they're honestly really upsetting for both of us."

They make my partner angry and they get very scary when they're angry.

They shifted in their seat, then took a deep breath. "I mean... Allegations like that are serious. But speculation on the topic is just... really hurtful. We've been together for years, and apart from some minor arguments, we've never had... We've never had..."

Clear throat, try again.

"We've been together for years, and we're very happy in this relationship. So seeing all those comments and theories is super hurtful. Even to me, and I'm not even the one being accused of... The a-word the site won't even let me utter. My partner is affected really deeply by your words—"

No, that would be giving too much power to these stupid people. It would make it worse.

"I would like to encourage you to please remember that you guys don't really know how our relationship is. Latching onto every little word, every little reaction... I've seen these weird compilations of me 'flinching whenever they move too suddenly', and it's... weird, I'm gonna be honest."

Deep breath. Deep breath. Deep breath.

Breathe.

By the time Whumpee was done recording, they could barely remember what they'd said. They detached the camera from their tripod and brought it to their computer, hoping the finished product would be something Whumper would approve of.

~

this is one of my last drabbles here, please feel free to follow me on my new blog @sowhumpshaped